


Temple of Vesta

by Queen_Mab



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ancient Rome, Fluff, Historical, Humor, Mutual Pining, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Mab/pseuds/Queen_Mab
Summary: Crowley was caught off guard the first time Aziraphale presented as a woman. He thought Aziraphale would at least change up the 4000-year-old clothes first.





	Temple of Vesta

**Rome, 53 AD**

Crowley could find the Temple of Vesta in his sleep. The smell of sacred smoke clung to the whole forum at the center of Rome, and he could _see_ the heat of an eternal flame soaked into the marble of the temple itself, the fire fed by anxious women who knew their lives depended on it.

There were six Vestal Virgins tasked with tending to this fire, six of the most powerful and yet most vulnerable women in Rome. One of the current Virgins, Caecilia, was sixteen and nearly finished with her ten years of training. Sixteen, and just beginning to notice boys when any hint of immodesty would raise political hell across all of Rome and possibly mean her execution by being buried alive.

And of course, downstairs wanted Crowley tempting her, so off to tempting he went.

It was really an easy thing. It didn’t take much to put thoughts in the head of any young person told not to think about something in particular. Every day, she’d go to the sacred fountain to fill up a pitcher of water to then go cleanse the temple with. Sure, sure, she’d do her best to keep her eyes low, but Crowley could see those half-seconds where her gaze would flick up, hungry to see the world around her.

And Crowley was always there. Dressed in a black tunic, glasses made with black quartz perched on his nose, red hair curled and well kept. Every day, their eyes met just briefly. Every day, Crowley would wink.

The first time it happened, her face had burned bright red and she hurried away so fast she almost dropped her pitcher. The second time, she still hurried away, but carefully, mindful of the water. The third time, she ducked her gaze down again, face burning, but she didn’t move away.

After two weeks, she held his gaze. A moment. Two. Then she looked back at the fountain, a small smile on her face.

It wouldn’t be long before he’d finished the job, Crowley was sure. All he needed was to tempt her to kiss someone and Hell would be happy.

He knew he had an exotic look about him. Red hair was considered Gaulish, not Roman, after all. And that girl had been raised as the second daughter of an elite patrician family, kept from the world with a legion of slaves at her beck and call, before she became a Virgin and was cushioned by a different sphere of elitism. A dash of foreign was intriguing to a girl like that. A hint of the forbidden with a person far away from her station, so far that they might as well not speak the same language.

It was easy to falter with a person when you didn’t think they were important enough for anyone else to notice.

That night, Crowley walked a waving line to the Temple of Vesta. It was a circular structure, safely enclosing the sacred fire, and smoke poured from the hole on the top. The summer was hot, and the fire hotter. The entrance to the temple glowed, and it was unguarded.

He sauntered to the entrance. Inside, the sacred fire burned, a massive flame set in a brazier. There was Caecilia, tending to the fire, but someone was with her. Another Vestal Virgin with her back to Crowley. Caecilia glanced up from the fire, locking eyes with Crowley from across the room. She barely held in a gasp, her face burning and her eyes widening. The other Vestal Virgin made a questioning sound before turning to look at the entrance.

“_Crowley?_”

Crowley nearly choked on air. “_Aziraphale?_”

He snapped his fingers. Caecilia’s eyes glazed over and her face went slack. Aziraphale turned to look back at her, shooting Crowley a disapproving look. “Now, was that necessary?”

“Since when are _you_ a Vestal Virgin?” Crowley said, waltzing into the temple and just expecting that no other humans would see and raise a fuss.

“Since twelve years ago! I’ll have you know that it’s been a very useful position to do my work from, too.”

“How is upstairs alright with that? You’re literally a priestess to a false deity!”

Aziraphale scoffed, like everything in him cringed at the thought of _him_ worshipping a false deity. “Vesta’s really just an aspect of the Almighty.”

“I don’t think that’s how the Romans see it.”

“Well, it’s not their opinions I care about, is it?” Aziraphale sniffed, crossing his arms.

The motion drew Crowley’s attention away from the shock of this revelation to Aziraphale’s actual appearance. Still soft at the edges, but now a feminine softness rather than simple indulgence. Round hips, round breasts, and long curls of white hair that would have gone down to his waist if he hadn’t tied it up the way Vestal Virgins traditionally did.

“You changed your body.”

Aziraphale didn’t have to blush, and yet he did. “Of course I did. I couldn’t very well become a Vestal Virgin looking like a man.” His hand went up to his hair, as if checking his white curls. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, no, I didn’t say that,” Crowley said immediately. “It’s just I’m surprised is all. I’ve known you over four thousand years and you haven’t even switched from flowing white garments.”

“Flowing white garments are stylish!” Aziraphale’s hand fell from his curls, which was probably a good thing, because Crowley thought they looked quite nice as they were. “Besides, my form was familiar and convenient and I saw no need to change it until now. I honestly don’t know how you keep up with all the switching _you_ do.” 

“Sometimes I like to change things up.” Crowley looked Aziraphale up and down again. “So. How’s the new look treating you?”

Aziraphale let out a dramatic groan, like he would have flopped into a fainting chair if one had been around. “It’s so _inconvenient_. Useful, yes—Vestal Virgins get access to so many people and places, you know—but there are so many _rules_ about what I can and can’t do, and the humans judge me for so much as making eye contact with men!”

Crowley let out a chuckle. “Your mistake was presenting as a woman in _Rome_. Rubbish place to be a woman, Rome. Most women don’t even get their own names. They get to walk around being called the fifth daughter of the Flavius family.”

Aziraphale primly crossed his arms. He would deny forever that his expression was _pouty_, but Crowley knew the truth. “It was easier in the desert, then?”

“I had to cover my hair all the time, but I got my own name. You tell me.” Crowley jerked his head towards the entrance. “Now, if you want a good experience as a woman, get out of the country a bit and I’ll show you some great places.”

Now Aziraphale really was pouting, but in that slightly wistful way he would whenever Crowley brought up something he wanted but he couldn’t have. “I’m assigned here. No ‘getting out of the country’, I’m afraid.”

“So? Not like they check.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks colored. “I could never deceive my superiors like that!”

Crowley waved a hand. “It’s not deception if they don’t even ask! And they wouldn’t.” He knew how to properly tempt people. Never go too hard at first. Just plant the idea, and there was a familiar gleam of consideration in Aziraphale’s eye. “Anyway, fancy some oysters? Change into something a little less Vestal-y and we can catch up.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale softened immediately. “I would so love to have some oysters. I haven’t been able to go to a proper restaurant for so long.”

Aziraphale needed no encouragement before he snapped his fingers and his stola and vittae were gone, leaving behind a simple but flattering tunic and letting his white curls fall all around his shoulders, unbound.

They both looked good, but poor, low class, if they were even citizens at all. No one ever bothered the low class men and women out together.

“After you,” Crowley said, gesturing to the temple entrance with a nod. Aziraphale’s smile was warm as he passed, but he paused at the threshold.

“Oh, I almost forgot about poor Caecilia!” Aziraphale turned, looking at the young girl still slack-jawed next to the fire. “You’ll wake up from dreaming about what you like best!” he said before snapping his fingers. The girl roused with a start, blinking at the world around her, and Crowley followed Aziraphale out of the temple before she could catch on to the fact her crush was spiriting away a different Virgin.

“The long hair suits you, you know,” Crowley said as he and Aziraphale wound through the forum. The best oyster restaurant in all of Rome curiously was still going to be open whenever they got there. Aziraphale smiled with a little noise of acknowledgement, hand going up to his curls again.

“You think so? Oh, but it’s so hard to care for compared to short hair.”

“Yeah, but you make sacrifices for style.”

Crowley slid his hand into Aziraphale’s. It was so smooth, so natural, it took Aziraphale a good thirty seconds of holding hands before he noticed and frowned at Crowley. “What are you doing?”

“Looking like we’re a couple. We’ll get less questions like that.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks colored, but he still didn’t pull away from Crowley’s hand. “But we’re not a couple.”

Crowley shrugged. “You’re not a woman, I’m not a man, we’re not a couple—but it’s all a bit much to get into explaining it to the humans, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale considered this logic with a frown. “Well, when you put it that way…”

They held hands all the way to the restaurant. Humans made their assumptions, and neither angel nor demon bothered to correct them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a kudos or a comment if you are so inclined. Concrit is welcome!
> 
> I have a tumblr called themadqueenmab. Feel free to contact me, or just browse my blog for the various drabble-y fics I put up there and don't get around to putting here.


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